How Did It Come to This?
by Maura16
Summary: Tony's pretty rubbish at laser tag. And also at expressing his emotions. Oh well.


**Okay so I am truly ashamed to say that this is a Secret Santa present and it is so late! I am so so sorry. I'm a terrible person.****  
><strong>**So, umm... Merry Christmas, Liz! I hope you like this and I am incredibly sorry for how late it is!****  
><strong>**As always, thank you for reading, and reviews make my day :D**

_**How Did It Come to This?**_

Tony didn't know when or how all this had started.

Well. That wasn't quite true. He knew _exactly_ how and when the whole laser tag extravaganza had first happened...

Bruce had been advised by his therapist that laser tag would be helpful for managing his anger, and Tony had agreed enthusiastically to the idea of a break from work to go shoot people with blinking lights. Not that he didn't love his job, of course he did. But the lab sometimes was too bright and white and Tony was glad to have a chance of 'escape', no matter how much he doubted his abilities in the aiming and dodging departments.

So Tony and Bruce had jumped into a cab and headed to the laser tag place (what were they called?) that Bruce had chosen after careful consideration of the apparently hundreds that there were in New York. And Pepper had come too, inviting herself at the last minute.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and they hadn't expected anyone else to be at the laser tag place- it was called SHIELD, and Tony absently wondered what it stood for, if anything. It was an out-of-the-way place, but the man on the phone had seemed competent and the prices weren't extravagant, and the apparent quietness of it and drawn them to it- they could all be social when they wanted to be, but sometimes dealing with strangers was too much after a long day.

But when they arrived, and the man at the desk took their money and ushered them through to another room, there were four other people there, three men and a woman. They were all very attractive, Tony couldn't help noticing, even as he sighed in annoyance. Pepper elbowed him.

They were clearly friends, laughing and joking and shoving each other, and they looked very comfortable as they strapped on their bulky combat vest things (God, Tony should maybe learn the terminology...)

"I'm gonna beat you this time, Peggy," drawled one of the men, in a thick Brooklyn accent.

The sole woman laughed. "I don't think so, Barnes," she said, her voice crisp- British? English?

"Yeah, remember what happened last week," chuckled the larger man. Tony swallowed. He was tall, muscled, blond... His voice was teasing but affectionate. Back off, Tony, he told himself sternly. You're here for Bruce, not to pick up hot guys.

"Hah yeah, didn't she trounce you?" said the third man, black and toned and beautiful.

The first man, who had shaggy black hair and some sort of silvered prosthetic arm, glowered at them. "Yeah, but that was an off day!"

The others laughed, and Tony started as Pepper elbowed him again. He winced. She had bony elbows. "We've to grab a vest and gun. I guess they'll be coming in with us?" She gestured towards the others, and Tony shrugged.

"No clue," he said, and followed the blond guy with his eyes as he struggled into a vest, holding his plastic gun thing awkwardly.

It turned out that they were all together, Tony and Bruce and Pepper and the four strangers, who had clearly been here before and looked eerily competent, holding their guns casually. Tony knew without a doubt that he was going to lose. Badly.

Bruce laughed and nudged him. "You think you can physics this out?"

Tony glared at him. "You know this offends me, Banner. These are not lasers." Bruce chuckled and moved away, talking to Pepper in an undertone. Tony wondered what they were plotting, but Bruce seemed calm, so he didn't mind too much.

The 'combat zone' was a large dark room, with walls in odd positions and a tactically advantageous tower in the centre. Tony held his gun awkwardly as he moved through the maze-like area. An eerie voice counted down, his gun lit up... and he was promptly shot in the back by the blond guy.

"Sorry, no hard feelings!" he said, running past.

"No running!" yelled Tony, but he got nothing more than a laugh in return.

Needless to say, Tony did not win. Neither did Pepper or Bruce, although they both did much better than Tony, who had a 3% accuracy. Three fucking percent.

The other four had come 1st through 4th, of course. The girl had won, which was the cause of much gloating. They picked up the printouts of their scores and wandered off with a final thanks to the bored supervisor, laughing and mocking each other's stats.

"That was fun!" said Pepper brightly.

Bruce nodded. "Very exhilarating. Same again next week?"

Pepper nodded enthusiastically and Tony groaned, feeling very out of breath and very unfit.

They went back, of course, the next week. And the next week. And the next week. Eventually, Tony and Bruce and Pepper were fighting for 1st place- because of course the four they'd seen the first week were always here on a Thursday.

And soon enough they started chatting afterwards, going for drinks. The shaggy haired guy was Bucky Barnes, and he was sharp and clever and sarcastic, an engineer of some kind. Sam, the black guy, was a therapist, and he and Bruce became instant friends. The woman was called Peggy, and she was the director of a huge company. Tony didn't ask for details- Peggy scared him a little. With her perfect hair and bright red lipstick she reminded him of Pepper- and indeed, the two had hit it off immediately.

And then there was Steve. Who volunteered and was an artist and a fire-fighter and an all round wonderful guy and who apparently hated Tony. He got on well with the others, joking around and just being genuinely lovely.

Even when Pepper brought along Natasha, one of her co-workers and friends, who was a fairly terrifying woman (Tony really questioned Pepper's ability to make friends with people not likely to kill him in his sleep) Steve included her in his jokes and conversations. Even when she got a 90% accuracy in her very first game, he didn't look at her strangely or with concern, warmly congratulating her.

When Natasha brought her friend Clint (well, she said friend. Tony couldn't suss out their dynamic), who turned out to be an even better shot than she was, Steve welcomed him to their group. (Steve'd become the unofficial leader of their motley crew, no doubt about it. They called him Captain Rogers, for Christ's sake.)

And they were all friends now, no longer acquaintances who occasionally played laser tag together.

And Tony didn't quite understand why they wanted to be friends with him. He was a sarcastic, snappish, arrogant asshole, and he didn't bother hiding it anymore- he'd decided long ago that he wasn't changing himself for anyone. He'd had enough of that, and Bruce and Pepper had both shown that they liked him better when he was himself, no matter how much he irritated them sometimes.

So he was ready for his new friends to fall away, to realise that he was a piece of shit. But rather than pushing him away, they became even closer. They seemed to like him despite of (or because of?) his flaws, and he was seriously overwhelmed by how amazing they all were.

They played laser tag every Thursday afternoon and went out for drinks afterwards (Steve didn't drink and neither did Tony, not anymore, but they'd found a small but nice bar which sold plenty non-alcoholic drinks and was never too busy); Tony, Clint and Sam played video games at least once a week. He knew that the girls met regularly for coffee. They were a close group now and Tony truly liked and respected them all, and was proud to call them his friends.

But Steve... There was something about Steve, and Tony couldn't help himself. Steve was a sarky bastard as well, despite his polite exterior, and it seemed that every single thing Tony said aggravated Steve. They just rubbed each other up the wrong way. They argued about the silliest things; they both managed to find the other's weak points; they could cut each other to shreds with a sentence.

Tony would never admit it, but he loved their arguments. They were thrilling and mentally stimulating (also Steve looked incredible when he was angry). And that was why he was so confused. Because he _couldn't work out Steve._

Tony had had lots of experience with people who despised him and people who adored him and people who worshipped him and people who hated him, until he met Bruce and Pepper and changed his life around. But he couldn't tell if Steve liked him, if he enjoyed their arguments like Tony did, or if he genuinely hated him. And Tony hated that he couldn't work it out. Because... well because he really wanted to know.

And that brought him back to the start. He didn't know when or how all this had started. And by this, he meant his big fat fucking crush on Steve.

To be honest, he blamed Pepper. He'd been perfectly happy ogling Steve from afar and making fun of him; he hadn't wanted to learn that Steve was a wonderful human being. (Actually he wasn't sure why this was Pepper's fault. He just found it easier to blame other people. He's a bit fucked-up, he acknowledges this.)

(He hadn't even noticed he had a crush until Clint elbowed him one day and said, casual as anything, "so how long have you and Cap been a thing?" Tony almost choked on his pizza. "What?! We're not!" he spluttered. Clint raised an eyebrow.

"You look longingly at him enough," he said, reaching for another bit of pizza. Tony gaped, mouth hanging open. "I do _not!"_

Clint just laughed through a mouthful of pizza.

Tony had forgot about what Clint had said, until a few days later he caught himself gazing at Steve, and then he realised with a start that he didn't just wanna lick his abs- he wanted to hug him and go on _dates _with him, what the fuck.

He'd run to Pepper in dismay. She'd shaken her head and told him to sort it out himself. "But he hates me," he whined. Pepper had just sighed and told him to leave her alone.)

The problem was that Tony had never felt like this about anyone. And he knew how pathetic that sounded, from a man of his age, but it was the truth. He loved Pepper, but she was like a combination mother-sister-friend. He'd had girlfriends, he'd had boyfriends, he'd had lovers (oh he hated that word), he'd had one-night stands...

But this was different and it terrified him. Tony knew he was a mess. He spent too much time at work and he was struggling to keep off the drink and sometimes he relapsed and he had anxiety and severe panic attacks and he was just a mess. And he knew that it was too much to expect someone like Steve to let Tony drag him down. He wouldn't drag Steve down. Steve deserved far better than Tony.

But Tony still provoked Steve, and Tony still watched him, and Tony probably would never have said anything- not by choice anyway, never deliberately. Except that sometimes he just couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

They were in the bar, sitting in the corner, all of them, having commandeered their usual three tables. There was a jovial, relaxed atmosphere, everyone catching up, complaining about work or co-workers or customers. Tony was sitting next to Steve, and was very conscious of their proximity.

"So, umm," said Tony, desperately searching for something to say, "how are you?"

Steve looked at him in surprise. "Are you talking to me?"

Tony frowned. "Uh, yes? Why wouldn't I be?"

Steve laughed humourlessly. "Well, because you hate me would be the first thought."

Tony gaped at him. "What?"

Steve raised an eyebrow, and even in his shock Tony envied him that.

"I don't hate you!" spluttered Tony. "I practically fucking love you, you idiot. You're funny and witty and so damn snarky and you say stuff in such a dry tone that no-one notices what you've said until five minutes later when they suddenly start cracking up. You're so stupidly smart, you know such obscure stuff- like you have such an in depth knowledge of the music of the 40s, why is that so useful! You're so bloody selfless and you make me feel so inferior but at the same time you have this knack of making people feel great about themselves and I just never thought I'd say this but I just want to date you for God's sake." Tony shuddered to a halt, breathing heavily, his ears ringing.

Steve was looking blankly up at him. "Tony," he said slowly, "I don't..."

Tony suddenly became aware of the silence at the table, and jerked his head up. Everyone was staring at him, shock on their faces. Steve wouldn't meet his eye.

"Fuck," he said thickly. "_Fuck," _and he grabbed his jacket, practically running out of the bar, no thought to where he was going except _away away away._

And now... Well. He had barely left his lab for weeks. Bruce was worried about him, he knew that. Pepper was angry at him- he'd been ignoring her calls and ever since that time three years ago she had a hard-and-fast rule about that. Sam had popped in and tried to analyse him in that über friendly way he had. Even Peggy had brought coffee and shouted at him without actually shouting.

But there had been no word from Steve. So he buried himself in his work and tried to ignore it all. Tony spent more time at the lab and less time anywhere Steve would be. Maybe if he never saw Steve, his stupid crush would go _away _and he could forget the whole humiliating experience_._

Unfortunately for him and his tendency to wallow in self-pity, he was blessed (or cursed, depending on your viewpoint) by the amazing whirlwind that was Pepper Potts. And when Pepper wanted something, it happened.

And it just so happened that what Pepper wanted was for Tony to be happy. And she'd decided that what would make Tony happy was Steve. (Just because it was true didn't mean Tony was any more pleased with her interference...)

She kept visiting him, digging at him to talk to Steve, suggesting that maybe Steve has just been shocked... But Tony knew that while Pepper was amazing, she couldn't force things that didn't exist. She couldn't _force _Steve to like him, and she couldn't force Tony to talk to him, no matter how much she threatened.

Tony told himself that he didn't care, that it didn't matter. Steve didn't like him, and that was that. Pepper could plot all she wanted. It wouldn't fix anything.

So Tony just worked until he was so tired that he fell asleep straight away, no tossing and turning and over thinking everything. He turned up his music so loud as he tinkered about and soldered and welded and sketched that all he could hear was the design, a tangible thing in his mind. He didn't allow himself to be distracted. He _couldn't._

And he probably would have let it go on for too long, until he'd collapsed or something, if it wasn't for Phil Coulson.

Coulson was the owner of SHIELD, the laser tag place (Tony still didn't have a name for them). He was scarily competent, worryingly organised, always aware of what was going on. If something happened in SHIELD, Coulson knew about it. Tony was a little bit scared of him. (It had occurred to Tony that he was afraid of quite a lot of his friends and acquaintances. He wasn't sure if that was because he was an easily terrified wimp or because they had all been spies in a previous life.)

Tony respected the man, but hadn't really spoken to him very much. So when he got a call from him, he picked up from sheer surprise. He listened in a daze to Coulson's calm account of the issue they were having with their laser tag team, agreeing vaguely before shaking himself.

"Wait what? You're telling me that there's a laser tag _tournament _and you want _me _of all people to be on the team? You do know I'm the worst at laser tag, right? And why the fuck is there a tournament? That seems lame."

Coulson let out a long-suffering sigh. "I know you've not been coming to laser tag for the past few weeks, and I honestly don't care about your personal problems, but I had eight coming and now Sam can't make it, so as much as it genuinely pains me, Stark, I need you. You can hide in a corner or something."

Tony sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

Coulson laughed darkly. "Not at all."

And that was how Tony found himself stuck in a mini bus for eight hours. The indignity of it- they were _adults_, for Christ's sake, and sure they were competing in a laser tag tournament but still! A minibus!- was overshadowed by the complete awkwardness Tony felt.

Because of course he'd been the last one there, so the only seat left was across the aisle from Steve. Of fucking course.

And he tried, he did. He could hear Pepper's voice in his head, telling him just to do it, Tony, what's the worst that could happen, but the problem was that Tony could very easily imagine everything that happen, and he didn't want any of it. So he plugged in his headphones, turned them up loud, and pretended to go to sleep. He could practically feel Pepper's death glare from the back of the bus.

The next thing he knew, he was straightening up groggily, blinking sleep out of his eyes, music blaring in his ears. Everyone was getting off the bus, grabbing bags and jackets and laughing with each other. Tony rubbed his eyes, stretching. Pepper leant down a she passed him, hissing in his ear. _"Talk to him."_

Tony sighed, standing up and gathering his stuff together. He was the only one left on the bus- as usual, the last one organised, so he took his time, sauntering casually out. He could see his friends ahead of him, across the car park, going into a building which was obviously a much larger laser tag area. Tony picked up the pace a little, not anxious to be abandoned in an unfamiliar place.

He almost had a heart attack when a figure stepped out from beside a parked car.

"Jesus _Christ_, Steve!" he gasped, clutching his chest.

Steve smiled ruefully. "Sorry," he said, genuinely looking it. Tony snorted and started walking again.

"What's up?" he said, trying to disguise his growing panic.

"I wanted to talk about what happened at the bar," he said.

Tony felt his stomach plummet. "Look, Steve, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to put you in that position and I'd just like to forget it if we can."

Tony sped up, hoping to reach the building before Steve could say anything else, but then Steve _laughed. _The _bastard. _Tony didn't know what was funny but he didn't see any humour in the situation at all. And then Steve grabbed his arm, pulling Tony around to face him.

"Tony," he said, stupid blue eyes staring earnestly at Tony, "I just wanted to say that I feel the same."

_"What?!" _ Tony choked, in a strangled and oddly high pitched voice.

Steve chuckled. "I feel the same, Tony. I thought you were mocking me. I thought you knew, hell , I thought everyone knew." His mouth twisted into a smile. "Apparently everyone except you knew. Pepper came and shouted at me. And I'm sorry I thought you would be so insensitive."

Tony raised his hands, making a time out gesture and feeling like a child. "Hang on. Back up one second. You _like _me? I thought you _hated_ me!"

Steve shook his head. He was very close. "Never," he breathed, bringing his lips to Tony's, and all Tony could think was _finally._

None of their friends said anything when Tony and Steve showed up ten minutes late, with kiss-swollen lips and messed-up hair and rumpled clothing, although several people did smirk at them and he was sure that he saw Bucky slip Peggy some money, although that might have been a trick of the light.

But Tony didn't care. And as cheesy as it was, as they got ready for the laser tag, and Steve smiled at Tony, as fucking corny as it was, Tony felt like he could take on the world.

And he couldn't _believe _he'd thought that. But whatever. Just now he was happy to be amongst his friends. And Steve, his _boyfriend_, who wished him luck and squeezed his hand before they went in and okay, Tony was damn lucky.


End file.
